Pool Hopping With Merl
by Echidne and Jyestha
Summary: A story of Camelot life, told in a much different perspective than Marion portrays it. Told through the flashbacks of Mordred the Monk to his young prodigys, this amusing and heartwarming tale is good stuff.
1. Default Chapter

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"I remember my old pool hoping days, Me, Merlin and Arthur, hopped the fence to Lancelot's Private swim resort, I did a swan drive right on top of television's favorite maid...Lancelot never let me back in," sighed Monk.  
  
-Quest for the Holy Mango  
  
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Sitting before the great fire in the monastery Lindsey put her head on the Monk lap, "Tell us a story Mordred."  
  
"Yes," purred Sarah stretching out on the floor, "A good story."  
  
"What kind of story?" questioned Mordred stroking Lindsey's brown locks, "How about the story of Snow White?"  
  
Lindsey made a face, "Please," she whined, "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs! Such a horrible story."  
  
"How so?" asked Mordred looking down at the girl.  
  
"You know," said Sarah looking pointedly at the monk, "Snow White's life with her evil stepmother is no picnic; it's full of tradition female labors."  
  
"Female labors?" asked the monk, his eyes troubled.  
  
"You know," replied Lindsey rising her head, "scrub the steps, dress in rags. She doesn't just take off like any boy would have done-to built a house or tried farming or.. taking care of domesticated animals as she appears to talk to them. She hangs around complaining and singing about her dream prince."  
  
"Yeah," said Sarah, "But you know, once the hunts-MAN tell her to get her pretty booty out of there because Queen lady is going nuts, only then does she leave," Sarah waved her hands as she spoke  
  
Lindsey laughed, "You're way gesture-y Sarah. Anyway, does she run off hoping to start a new life and seek a fortune? Nope. She races hysterically into the woods looking for a new domestic step up. And lo--She comes across not one but seven men she had wait on hand and foot. Cooking, cleaning and dusting-"  
  
"And washing," cut in Sarah, "Not once does she say, 'Wouldn't it be great to work down in the mines?' Nope. Just, "There are pies to be baked!" and what's her reward in the end? A career?" Sarah was nearly shouting.  
  
"Nope," spat Lindsey, "Stability? Nope- all she gets is a husband and another house to clean." "Men," cursed Sarah. "Make me sick." She flopped back in her seat.  
  
Lindsey nodded in earnest as the trio lapsed into silence.  
  
"So," said Mordred uncomfortably, "You don't want to hear Snow White,"  
  
Lindsey and Sarah just looked at each other and laughed. They loved their Monk.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Story." pondered the monk sinking further back into his plush red high back chair,  
  
"Oh!" cried Sarah, "I know one!"  
  
"What?" asked Lindsey smiling at her.  
  
"When I got nail polish on my jeans and tried to get it off with nail polish," said Sarah nodding and grinning, "See. the good thing was that I got the nail polish off my new pants," she frowned, "The bad thing was the nail polish was acetone based and ate a hole threw them,"  
  
"Oh," said Lindsey simply, nodding, "That sucks, which pants?"  
  
"The sparkly jeans," mourned Sarah.  
  
"That sucks!" cried Lindsey, "I wanted to borrow them,"  
  
  
"Me too," added Monk.  
  
"They would have looked great on your hips," smirked Sarah, picturing  
her dear monk friend in her jeans.  
  
"I'm going to a scary mental place," said Lindsey quietly.  
  
"I'm sorry," apologized Sarah.  
  
"It's okay," confirmed Lindsey, "Give me a minute. there! All better."  
  
  
Mordred grinned at his girls, his pride and joys; "I have a story. about my pool hopping days..."  
  
  
"You mention that story a long time ago," recalled Sarah, "Something about you sneaking into Lancelot's private pool and swan diving on Camelot's favorite priestess?" she teased.  
  
  
Monk blushed, "No, Camelot's favorite trollop. she was just a saucy little maid,"  
  
"Tell, tell," said Lindsey bouncing in joy, "Story Sarah!" She grinned.  
  
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It all started one rainy day. Me, Merlin and Arthur were in Merlin's hovel. It was a dreadful place, stuffy and full of all these moldy books. And he had this owl. bleeding Goddess this bird shat everywhere!  
  
  
But it was the best place to light up the hookah and pass that peace pipe around. 


	2. Confessions

Merl, and me-- we were young things still. I was about 700, he was maybe 800 at the time. Arthur was only about 15; he would be made King in a year or two. Arthur liked to smoke with us because when we got stoned enough Arthur could coax information about his destiny out of us.  
  
The bird let out another grayish white blob on the stale hay, "Gods Merl," said Arthur taking a long drag of the hookah, "That bird," he exhaled the smoke, "It craps a lot,"  
  
"That's why I call it Crappy," grinned Merl taking the pipe from Arthur.  
  
"So what do you boys want to do today?" I asked, "We could grind our enemies bones to dust but gosh," I paused to take a drag of the pipe, "We did that yesterday."  
  
"We could sit under the stairs and wait for the ladies to go down," said Arthur with his playful grin, "You know. maybe get a glimpse at their undergarments,"  
  
"Dude," Merl and I laughed together, "You're such a loser."  
  
"Yeah?" said Arthur smiling, "Yesterday you said I was destined to be King. How could a King be a loser?"  
  
"You told him?" I cried as Merlin gave me a shrug.  
  
"I was stoned,"  
  
  
"That's no reason to tell him the mysteries of the future," I shouted at my friend, "what else did you tell him?'  
  
  
"That was it dude!" Merlin said, calming me down, "Mordred and Gwenny. all in the vault,"  
  
"Oh," pried Arthur, "I'll remember those names."  
  
"Like hell you will," I said going to Merlin's drawers and looking for some alcohol, "You're more stoned then. King Lot on All Saints Day!"  
  
The rain pounded on the thin straw roof the hovel. The small trickles coming from the ceiling were turning to steady streams. I placed a little tin pot down as another leak sprung got of the straw roof.  
  
"We could. you know, like throw eggs at Lancelot," suggested Arthur.  
  
"Little Woman," laughed Merlin inhaling the contents of the pipe, "Lancelot is such a girl,"  
  
  
"Public humiliation to Lancelot?" I asked, then it hit me, "His little pool party is tomorrow," I replied grinning.  
  
Arthur spat, "Were you invited?"  
  
"No," said Merlin, "I wasn't! Were you, Mordred?"  
  
"No. I wasn't," I said, grinning, "But I think that tomorrow should be. warm."  
  
"Yeah, and I'm fairly sure I'd like a nice swim tomorrow." nodded Arthur, understanding what I was getting to.  
  
" "Dudes," said Merlin as he sucked, "We got a license to party," he said snapping.  
  
"Merl," I said, laughing as I wrestled the pipe away from my very high friend, "You're stoned,"  
  
"Yeah," laughed the sorcerer, "Nimue's goanna flip a shit, again," He looked at his sundial, "You boys had better go home.. We still on for the pool hopping?"  
  
"Yeah," I said, "I got confession in a few minutes, and I had better go."  
  
"I'm back on work," complained Arthur, "I do wish I was made King sooner, then I wouldn't have to scrub pots. Lata brother," Arthur said slapping the 800-year-old wizard upside, "Word," he said, "See ya!"  
  
I repeated the gestures, "Lata dawg,"   
  
Arthur and I walked across the ground towards the castle. Arthur was a kitchen boy and I was the court monk. I was suppose to be making the court all Christian-ly and was doing a pretty bad job at it.  
  
After dropping Arthur off in the kitchens I headed to my five o'clock for confession.  
  
Pulling on my priestly robes as I entered the confession room, I asked, "Good day my child," I said, buttoning all those little buttons, 'Tell me your sins,"  
  
"Hello Father," whispered a seductive voice from behind the screen, "Sins? I haven't done anything too naughty."  
  
"Well, we are all sinners, my child," I said, trying to sound professional.  
  
"Oh, I love it when you call me that," I heard the latch open, as the woman walked into my part of the confessional room, "It makes everything so. kinky," The young woman sat on my lap and shook back her long blonde hair, "Hello. father," said she, licking me up the face.  
  
"Gwenhwyfar," I said in disgust, "Do we have to do this every time you are compelled to come to confession?"  
  
"But Mordred," Gwenhwyfar moaned as she straddled my hips, "You turn me on,"  
  
Pushing the slutty queen-to-be to the floor, I stood up, "If you have nothing to say to our lord god, I bid you good day," I said as I headed for the door.  
  
"Oh, that's how you like it," purred Gwen licking her licks, "I'll get you. Monkey," she wrinkled her nose. I slammed the door of the confessional booth with disgust.  
  
"I don't understand this at all," pondered Lindsey. "I thought you were Arthur's son.and stuff."  
  
"Son?" said Mordred in surprise. "NO, my child, that was only in the Alternate Universe with King Hsiao...and Marion Zimmer Bradley.and Madonna."  
  
"An AU," said Lindsey importantly.  
  
"What did you guys get stoned off of?" mused Sarah. "Marijuana was in South America and you were all, like European. Opium was Asian."  
  
"We used snuff. It's cocaine," said Mordred as he absorbed Sarah's vast knowledge of natural habitats for illegal substances.  
  
The three sat in silence for a moment. "It must have been horrible when Merlyn left," observed Lindsey as she began braiding Sarah's hair."  
  
"It was," said Mordred sadly. "Before Merlyn left, Camelot shone many colors-reds and purples and pinks and all shades of yellow. But after Merlyn left-he took all the pink with him."  
  
Monk sat and brooded for several moments as a lone tear squeezed from his left eye in remembrance of his beloved sorcerer.  
  
"That was very disturbing, Mor," said Sarah. "Keep things like that to yourself."  
  
"I want to hear more of the story," whined Lindsey."  
  
"Alright," said Mordred warmly.." 


	3. Dinner With the Doughboy

After that.disturbing confession, it was time for dinner. I took my place at Uther's right, across from Merl, at his left.  
  
"Thank you Lord, for the gifts we are about to receive," I prayed as the food was served.  
  
"Thank you, Goddess and all other deities for this food," chanted Merl.  
  
It was interesting, being at court. Some of the people were Christians souls, but many others were still pagan. It's interesting, because when I say the grace, the pagans get offended and when Merl does, the Christians get offended. So we both do.  
  
"Hey, serving boy!" roared Uther to Arthur. "Give me some more raw mutton."  
  
I could see Arthur's pain in his face as he fed his king the raw mutton. "When I am king," Arthur whispered, "He will be sorry he all treated me thus."  
  
"When you are king," I whispered back, "He'll be dead. That's how it works, man! King dies, other dude gets a crown..."  
  
"Word," said Merl as he toasted me with his goblet. I did the same and took a swing of the wine. It was some good shit. Sometimes I got the serving wenches to put some vodka in the wine, but they then they started asking me where I got the vodka.and that's another story.  
  
But after I took a swig I almost spat it out. Lancelot du Lac had chosen that moment to appear.  
  
He looked like the Pillsbury Dough Boy, only in an armor suit.  
  
Of course, the Pillsbury Dough Boy wouldn't appear for another 1500 years so no one made the connection.  
  
"Evening, Lancelot," said Uther pleasantly.  
  
"Damn, who gave you that outfit, the Tin Man?" cackled Merlyn.  
  
"You look like..hell, man. The outfit.it's so..."  
  
"Third century?" supplied Merl.  
  
I grinned. "Exactly."  
  
"I think it's sexy," Gwenhwyfar purred. She began running her hands up and down the metal. She looked up. "Where'd you get it?"  
  
"I bought it from an Islamic blacksmith in Prague, but I found it locked in the North Tower, hanging from a noose with a sign that said "You" on the front yesterday." Lancelot shot me an incriminating look.  
  
"I guess I just can't get Jesus' message to everyone," I sighed. I picked up my napkin to try to smother my manly giggles and guilty snivel.  
  
Nimue, Merlyn's wench sent him a dirty look. "You and I are going to have a looooong talk about hospitality when we get back to our hovel."  
  
"Hospitality? He's been here for two years, Nim."  
  
"He's still a foreigner," said Nimue angrily.  
  
Yet Merl continued. "And since when is it OUR hovel? I'm just letting you share my bed, wench."  
  
Nimue gasped. "I thought we were in love!"  
  
"You thought wrong, girly."  
  
"You dirty old man!"  
  
"Relax, Nimue," I soothed. "He's just stoned.and drunk. He probably thinks you're like.I don't know. His mum."  
  
"Oh," said Nimue. "Well, I guess that's okay."  
  
Note to self, I thought. Nimue-not the sharpest knife in the drawer."  
  
I turned my attention back to Lancelot. He had his head out of the window. "In case you're going swimming tomorrow," he called. "The water temperature is 75 degrees. However," he continued, "My pool is built over a flaming oil well so it's more like 90 degrees. So we can all sit in my hot tub, eat some stuff, get drunk, probably have an orgy."  
  
"Whoa, rewind. Orgy?" Merl looked at me and his eyes got wide. "Since when do these guys have orgies and why am I not on the mailing list?"  
  
"The postal system won't be invented for a couple more centuries, Merl," muttered Gwen as she cuddled up to Lancelot. She looked at me in mock innocence. "Oh, Father-was that terribly naughty of me to correct a religious man of the cloth?" She pulled out her cross and began sucking on it. "Do I need to beg your forgiveness? How can I do penance.Father?"  
  
"You can go away. Far away, and be.away."  
  
Gwenhwyfar sighed and pouted. Happily, she found console in the metal arms of Lancelot.  
  
"One of these days you should just do her," observed Merl. "She's asking for it, dawg. Just slip her the hot beef injection."  
  
I stared at him. "Dude, that imagery.was really wrong." Merl didn't appear to care. "I mean, we're talking about your future queen!"  
  
"Yeah..she's a slut. Duh. Where have you been these past months?"  
  
Arthur kneeled next to me. "I think I'm in love," he whispered in my ear.  
  
I cleared my throat uncomfortably. "Well, Arthur, dude, I'm really touched that you feel like that.but I just don't go that way."  
  
Arthur stared at me for a moment. "Um.not with you, Mor."  
  
"What, do you not find me attractive?"  
  
"No, it's-"  
  
"You find me attractive. I knew it, you're a queer!"  
  
"No, I don't find you-"  
  
"You're just like Lancelot. We all know how he likes his young, beardless men," I said loudly.  
  
The hall fell silent.  
  
"Dude, are you trying to start a war?" inquired Merl. "Cause I mean.violence...not always the answer man."  
  
"So Merlyn was kind of like a seventh century hippie," observed Sarah."  
Mordred glared at the girl. "Can I continue my story?" 


	4. Pissing in the Pool

"Let's not acknowledge that statement," put in King Uther. "It'll just lead to war with Gaul and then they'll be really embarrassed when they realize it's true."  
  
Lancelot glared at me. "Boy!" He said loudly. "It looks like there will be excellent weather tomorrow. Perfect swimming weather!"  
  
Merlyn fumed silently.  
  
"There, there Merlyn. "I'm sure you'll have fun taking your mud bath...with the pigs," said Lancelot cleverly.  
  
"Dude," I said eloquently. "That was as far from witty as we are from the freaking moon."  
  
"Word," agreed Merl.  
  
"Would it be chivarlious of me to trip him?" asked Arthur. "Because I've been trying to tell you how I'm in love and he keeps interrupting."  
  
"Hm..." I pondered.  
  
"I'M IN LOVE WITH GWENHWYFAR DAMNIT!" shouted Arthur.  
  
"That's nice, serving boy," said Uther. "Where did the seductress go?"  
  
"She went to succumb to the sin of lust with Lancelot in the stables, milord," I said.  
  
"Little slut."  
  
"I know sir. She does always come to confession, though."  
  
"Not her...him. He told me he loved me..."  
  
My boys and I marched across the grass in the rain. As we passed Lance's pool I spat on the ground, "Who does that stupid French git think he is?" I questioned.  
  
"I have an idea," said Arthur, as he loosed the belt of his trousers.  
  
"Dude?" asked Merl, twisting his beard with his long fingers, "Are we getting naked?"  
  
Arthur began to urinate in Lance's pool. The hot liquid against the cool water made a hissing sound and steam began to rise in the air.  
  
"Dude," said Merl, following in suit, "That's the shit,"  
  
"I'm not going to conform," I told my immature friends as I attempted to keep my dignity and ignore my bladders need to relieve itself.  
  
"Conform," urged Arthur, sighing in relief.  
  
"Okay," I readily agreed, easily slipping up my priestly robes.  
  
"Dude," Merl said as he giggled. "You're wearing a dress,"  
  
"Robes," I said stubbornly, "They're robes,"  
  
"Dress," countered Merl.  
  
"What ARE YOU DOING?" cried a high voice followed by several giggles.  
  
I dropped my robes and turned around, my jaw dropped. It was the High Priestess of Avalon with all her Priestesses.  
  
Her name was Viviane-  
  
A/N; Hello, hello...sorry for the short chapter. We wrote the rest of it...but it was not good. I'll have the rest up within the next few days. Love! 


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